Ed. note: See more of Joanna’s cooking — and gorgeous food photography — on her blog, Jojo’s Kitchen.

Sometimes putting together a meal from whatever scraps you have left in the cupboard and fridge yields ho-hum results.  Other times, magic happens. I’ll be so bold as to say that this dish falls into the latter category. Why, you ask? Just let me tell you a little story about the time I made these noodles.

Picture it: I was rummaging through my kitchen, trying to figure out what to make for dinner for myself and my boyfriend, who was already on his way over to my place. I had soba noodles. I had edamame. I had fresh ginger, garlic, and all kinds of condiments. I just needed ideas.  As often happens, I consulted epicurious.com and found this gem of a recipe from the August 2007 issue of Gourmet magazine (oh, Gourmet, may you rest in peace).  After a quick trip to the produce store down the street (which, I smile to point out, is called U Don’t Know Nothing Produce), I was in possession of some lovely shiitake mushrooms, some Napa cabbage, and scallions. Perfect. Before I knew it, I was chopping and sautéing them with the aroma of garlic and ginger filling my apartment.

So, how good was it? Maybe too good.  After preparing the sauce, veggies, and noodles, the whole dish came together as a delightful symphony of flavors and aromas that prompted us to start eating straight out of the pot. After dealing out heaping portions into a couple of bowls, I was pouring myself a glass of wine when I heard a small thud and an exclamation of, “Oh NO!”

I turned around to find my boyfriend contemplating a pile of shiitake mushrooms, noodles, and cabbage on the floor. “It’s okay,” I said. “There’s plenty more.”  He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if considering whether or not he was willing to sacrifice an entire bowlful. “Nah,” he said, “I think it’s okay. Besides, I’ll probably want more after this.” He scooped the noodles back into his bowl and, aside from a small bit on the bottom of the pile that had made the most direct contact with my living room carpet, ate an entire bowl of noodles that had fallen on the floor—all because they seemed too delicious and too precious to waste. And he went back for seconds.

This is a pretty easy recipe, though it does involve a whole lot of chopping. It’s the perfect kind of dish to make when friends/significant others drop by for dinner:  the work is pretty mindless, so it’s easy to enjoy a conversation and perhaps also a glass of wine while getting dinner ready. It’s also pretty versatile: it’s great hot or cold, and it works well with a variety of different ingredients. The original recipe is vegetarian- and vegan-friendly; I, however, have made this recipe both with and without shrimp. I’m sure it would be great with some seared tofu, too—just play around and see what you like.  I also swapped out the 1/3 cup of water that the original recipe calls for and replaced it with rice vinegar and sesame oil to round out the flavors—flavors so round that you may, um, find yourself eating it off the floor, too.

Spicy Soba Noodles with Shiitakes, Cabbage, and Edamame

Adapted from Gourmet

Serves 4

Ingredients

For the sauce:

¼ cup rice vinegar

A few tablespoons of sesame oil, to taste

1/3 cup soy sauce

2 or 3 teaspoons of Korean hot-pepper paste, depending on how hot you want it (Sriracha is also great here if you don’t have or can’t find the hot-pepper paste)

1 tablespoon packed brown sugar

For the Noodles:

3 tablespoons sesame seeds

¼ cup vegetable oil

2 tablespoons of finely chopped peeled ginger

1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic

10 oz fresh shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and thinly sliced*

1 head of Napa cabbage (1-1 ¼ pounds), thinly sliced (should yield about 8 cups—I know, that’s a lot).

6 scallions, thinly sliced

1 box soba noodles (8 or 9 oz). If you don’t have soba, I imagine you can also use a very thin long-cut pasta, but the buckwheat flavor of the soba noodles is especially nice.

1 cup frozen shelled edamame

A couple of handfuls of shrimp, peeled and deveined (optional)

*A quick note on the shiitakes: clean them using a clean, damp towel or a damp paper towel. Never, ever clean mushrooms by rinsing them!  It makes them rubbery, and it also interferes with the browning process.

First, stir together all of the sauce ingredients in a sauce pot over medium-low heat until the brown sugar is dissolved.  Set it aside. That was easy, no?

Toast the sesame seeds by stirring them in a dry skillet over medium heat until they are golden brown. Set them aside in a small bowl so you can use the same skillet for your veggies.

Heat the vegetable oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. You’ll know it’s ready when the oil looks like it’s shimmering. (Vegetable oil is preferable here because its flavor, unlike that of olive oil, won’t compete with the other flavors of the dish.) Add the ginger and garlic and sauté for about 30 seconds until fragrant. Make sure that the garlic doesn’t burn.  Then add the shiitakes and sauté until they start to brown and get nice and tender. Then reduce the heat to medium and add the cabbage and most of the scallions, saving a little bit for garnishing the dish at the end. Cook until the cabbage is tender but still has some crunch to it, about 5 or 6 minutes. Then add the sauce and simmer it for another couple of minutes.

While the cabbage and mushroom mixture cooks, cook the soba and edamame together in a big pot of boiling, salted water until the noodles are just tender. (If you’re using shrimp, you can also throw them into the pot to quickly cook them, or you can sear or grill them and throw them on at the end. Up to you.)  Drain the pasta and edamame in a colander and then rinse them under cool water to stop the cooking.  Drain them again, and then transfer to a large bowl or back into your pasta pot. Add in the sesame seeds and cabbage mixture and toss it all together. Serve the noodles in bowls topped with the reserved scallions and enjoy.

This semester, I am on campus for lunch two days a week. I know — a measly two days is nothing. You, dear reader, are probably at work for lunch five whole days a week. Well, all the better for you. Because I’ve had to start thinking about how to pack my lunch.

What did I eat for lunch when I was a working woman? Good question. A lot of cafeteria food (no, no woe is me, we’re talking Conde cafeteria here). A lot of Midtown Lunch recs. Leftovers, sometimes, if I was being good. One of the big differences between eating lunch at work and eating lunch at school is that when I was eating lunch at work it was almost a daily requirement to at least go to the caf, to stretch my legs and take a break and probably run into some friends (the Conde caf is nothing if not a better-dressed high school cafeteria with long lines for sushi). At school, I don’t need the break, I need something fast, and cheap, and healthy. And maybe, wherever you lunch, you do, too?

Enter tabbouleh. Certainly not just for lunch, but a perfect lunch candidate. You can make it ahead (it will keep for some time — a week? more?); you can tote it around with you sans refrigeration (at least in Minnesota winter); it’s filling; and it isn’t terrible for you, not by a long shot.

A Middle Eastern “salad,” true tabbouleh is actually supposed to be mostly parsley. That’s probably delicious, too, but not quite as lunch-worthy; more of an appetizer, or part of a dip platter, which is how tabbouleh is traditionally served. But since I wanted to break tradition a little and incorporate more bulgur (more heartiness), I went all the way and used this recipe from the Food Network’s own doyenne of Hamptons-style luxury, Ina Garten.

Couldn’t be better — a mix of crunchy vegetables and chewy bulgur, a bright burst of lemon juice, a pick me up from the parsley. Serve with romaine lettuce leaves for extra crunch, maybe some broiled chicken breast (that you’ve doused with ground cumin pre-broiling) for extra protein, and homemade hummus (recipe coming next week) for a little added richness.

Tabbouleh

Serves 6, I’d say

Adapted from Ina Garten

Ingredients

• 1 cup bulgur (cracked wheat)
• 1 1/2 cups boiling water
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (2 lemons)
• 1/4 cup good olive oil
• 2 teaspoons salt, or more, to taste
• 1 cup minced scallions, white and green parts (1 bunch)
• 1 cup chopped fresh mint leaves (1 bunch)
• 1 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley (1 bunch)
• 1 hothouse cucumber, unpeeled, seeded, and medium-diced
• 2 cups cherry tomatoes, cut in half
• freshly ground black pepper

1. Place the bulgur in a large bowl, pour in the boiling water, and add the lemon juice, olive oil, and 1 teaspoon salt. Stir, then allow to stand at room temperature for about 1 hour.

2. Add the scallions, mint, parsley, cucumber, tomatoes, 1 teaspoon salt, and the pepper; mix well. Add more salt and/or pepper to taste, and serve or cover and refrigerate. The flavor will improve if the tabbouleh sits for a few hours.